Captured Pet
by the little spanko
Summary: WARNING: This is a dark fic where Lisa takes Jackson prisoner. NOT J/L or romantic...may end that way. There will be spanking/torture & more, all non consensual, but it will be more than it seems. Still, I think this one will be pretty brutal. Beware!
1. Chapter 1

Seeing Jackson laying on the ground, Lisa had to act fast.

"Dad, help me hide him!" She said over her shoulder, running to his crumpled form as he looked at her in confusion, unable to ask questions or defend himself, all he could do was shake his head no. His eyes had a bit of fear to them that thrilled her, giving her a sense of power that she had lost long ago.

"What? Honey, what are you doing?" Her father Joe asked, walking towards the fallen man but not helping. "He tried to kill us."

Looking Jackson over she said, "I want him. ...I need this, after what happened to me. Dad, help me – please." She looked up at her father with pleading eyes, worried that the sirens were getting closer.

He looked at her for a moment, knowing that he should argue. But, that look ….that lively look in her eye that he hadn't seen since before she was attacked, raped and stabbed just a couple years earlier. He remembered that look from her childhood, when she was free and strong and vibrant. He couldn't deny her, they'd all lost so much.

"I know the place," he said as he picked up the legs of the injured man, taking the brunt of the weight. Nodding his head towards the basement he continued, "The whole house is under construction – but the wine cellar ...the wine cellar is finished. It's empty and I have dry wall sitting against it, no one will know it's there – the police will never know." Jackson mewed at this news, possibly an attempt to speak his disaggreeance, but he was fully ignored.

Lisa nodded at her father, smiling fully. Looking down she saw Jackson looking up at her, could see the vein in his neck pumping away quickly in his panic and fear, and she couldn't help but laugh. This pretty little bastard had no idea the mistake he had made in choosing her! A few hours ago, she'd never of guessed that she was capable of carrying out the dark fantasies she'd had since her earliest memories.

Her musings were cut short as they got to the staircase and made the precarious way to the basement floor as Jackson attempted to struggle away from them. Luckily, he was weakened from being stabbed and shot, unable to disrupt their plans much at all – she wasn't sure how they were going to take care of his wounds if they were serious, but she'd think of something. She always did, she thrived under pressure. Besides, her father had been a medic in the army – certainly he'd dealt with serious wounds before.

They set him down in the middle of a large room, moving the sheets of drywall together as Jackson tried to crawl away. He only managed to get to the bottom of the stairs by the time they got the door to the wine cellar opened.

"This is a big cellar," she said, impressed, before looking excitedly to her father.

He grinned darkly before saying, "I guess I can always put in a cellar for _wine_ on the other side of the basement." They shared a laugh at that before retrieving Jackson and carrying his objecting form into the large cellar, dropping him in the far corner.

Lisa knelt next to Jackson to check his wounds. All of them had nearly stopped bleeding already, his skin wasn't clammy and he seemed pretty coherent, considering. He'd just have to manage for now, if he died – well, that wouldn't really be all that bad.

Joe had walked out for a moment as she checked him, coming back with a roll of duck tape, "I wouldn't leave him without securing him."

Looking into her father's eyes, Lisa realized that she likely got her dark side from him, what with that gleam he now had. Taking the duck tape, she walked purposely towards her captive, fully enjoying watching him shrink into the corner in outrage and fear. Thrusting him forward and twisting his arms behind his back, she quickly taped his hands as she breathed into his ear before taping his ankles together, then she slapped a piece of the tape over his mouth – even though she doubted he'd be able to make much noise in his current condition. They closed the door on him, put back the sheets of drywall, rescattered the dust on the floor from the home improvement work and went upstairs as the police pulled up.

It was easy dealing with the police, due to the fact that she'd only reported one person at the house trying to kill her and they already had the dead body of the assassin in the foyer . After checking details with Lisa's hotel to confirm her story, things began moving quickly. Pretty soon the police decided to let her father Joe go about his day, seeing as how he knew nothing about what was going on, so that they could question Lisa further.

As he gave his daughter a hug goodbye, Joe whispered to her, "I'll take care of his damage. It isn't bad, don't worry." Lisa gave him a smile, knowing that her pet was in good hands. Her father had been a medic in his army days, after all.

Jackson was cold, in pain and very scared as he sat on the floor in the dark. This job was supposed to of gone off without a hitch, the planning had been so thorough – yet it hadn't mattered. He was almost angry that he was still alive. No good could come of it; even if he escaped, his employers would have him killed. ...most likely in the most painful way they could think of. He'd disgraced them, and now he could only hope that they had all been exposed. But first, he had to get the hell out of this duct tape and then out of this cellar!

Fighting his bonds was making the gunshot wounds hurt worse. They hadn't hit bone, and – since he was still alive – he knew they hadn't hit an artery or any major blood supply. From what he could feel, there wasn't even much blood loss. 'Lucky me, both are terrible shots,' he thought with irritation. Not knowing much about wine, he did consider himself lucky that the cellar was not refrigerated. It was just a room the size of a small bedroom with shelves for hundreds of wine bottles lining it.

As light instantly blinded him, he realized that the room was also soundproof from the insulation as he hadn't heard any footsteps.

"My deepest apologies, but I don't have any anesthetic," Joe said with a grin as he loomed menacingly over Jackson, holding a first aid kit.

Jackson's eyes grew very large at the realization that he was to be healed in the most painful of ways. He tried shaking his head no again, pushing himself against the wall, but this simply had Joe rumbling with laughter as he closed the door behind him to block out the cries of pain that were soon to come.

Tugging him by his feet to the center of the room to lay on his back, Joe said, "Now now, we can't have you dying, can we?" He then went about laying his medical instruments out in perfect order. Jackson watched with horrified eyes at all of the sharp, painful looking items that'd soon be digging in his flesh. Feeling woozy, he let his eyes drift to the ceiling, trying to separate himself from the situation.

Finished with his organization, Joe nudged Jackson and said with a smile and a quirk of the head, "Those clothes gotta go so I can treat you." He then picked up the medical scissors and began cutting off Jackson's bloodied clothes as the younger man whimpered and tried thrashing about. "None of that! You don't want me to cut you, do you?" Joe asked harshly in feigned concern. Jackson instead tried rolling away, but Joe grabbed him and forced him back in place. "I can get something to tie you down to if I have to...but I'll make sure it hurts more if that's the case."

Jackson knit his brows together and whimpered as Joe finished cutting away everything but his underwear.

Giving the younger man a quick checking over to assess the wounds, Joe grabbed his chin to force Jackson to meet his eyes and said, "You hurt my daughter and I'm going to enjoy this, boy, you hear me?"

Jackson's chin quivered, all anger replaced with horror as he felt himself close to tears. Joe suddenly ripped the tape from his mouth and leaned down to say, "I want to hear you when I hurt you."

Joe was disappointed that the gunshots had apparently both gone straight through, but was relieved that there were no signs of internal bleeding. The kid had been lucky. ...he wasn't sure if that made him happy.

He decided to dig for shrapnel anyway. Taking the long tweezers, he disinfected them and then dug in to the shoulder wound to search for anything that shouldn't be there.

Jackson immediately cried out, turning his head away. "It went clean through," he managed to croak out.

"You know, you're right," Joe said in satisfaction as he pulled the tweezers out. Picking up a bottle of saline, he flushed the wound – making Jackson scream - and then moved on to the gunshot in Jackson's side. Luckily for Jackson, that shot had mostly grazed him, simply penetrating what little fat he had on him, and didn't need a lot of attention. Didn't even really look like a gunshot wound – more like two small perforations. Still, there were the two stab wounds and Lisa's heel to his thigh to contend with. Joe had him put back together the best he could with what he had as Lisa walked in, having finished with the police and with work.

"How is he?" She asked, looking his near naked form over greedily.

Joe gave her a proud smirk, "He should heal up fine. I need to get a mattress in here and some blankets. Things go ok?"

"Yea," she said distractedly, watching as Jackson's heavy eyelids fluttered as he tried to stay awake to look at her. He still had good color in his cheeks, and she felt a rush of relief that he'd survive. She grinned as she realized that the natural composition of his face gave him a constant pout.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone while I get some things," Joe said as he turned to leave, still smirking at her reaction to her new pet.

Her eyes flashed onto her father, "Thank you – for everything." She motioned at Jackson and then shook her hands about. Joe smiled and gave her a hug, which she eagerly reciprocated, before he went to search out items for their new 'guest.'

Lisa's eyes again fell upon Jackson, and she was surprised to see him more awake now, looking at her out of the corner of his eye with nervousness as he backed away and propped himself up on the wall.

"Feeling better?" She asked, marveling at the brilliant light blue of his eyes.

"Not really," he answered in an untrusting tone, bringing the knee of his uninjured leg up to his chest.

"You will soon," she said without much emotion, deciding that she didn't really care if he hurt; it was clear he'd recover. If his pain was all that bad, he wouldn't be sitting up and speaking to her.

She stood before him, eyes trailing over him again and again, resting on his eyes every now and then. The feeling of power it gave her was intoxicating, making him shrink just with her eyes alone. He looked so small and delicate, beautiful.

Finally he worked up the nerve to ask, "What happens now?" He tried to keep his voice even, to seem brave as though he had the control, but his voice had wavered, cracked, and he could feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment over the entire situation.

A large smile broke across her face as she took it all in, and she let his question hang for a long moment, enjoying the way his adam's apple bounced up and down as he swallowed nervously while waiting for her response.

"Now you belong to me," she answered, the finality of it making Jackson's breath catch, "and I'll do with you as I please." She couldn't help but chuckle at the mixture of emotions that flew over his pretty features: the shock at her words that morphed into disbelief that morphed into rage and indignation before finally settling on fear and ….acceptance? No, he couldn't possibly be accepting this already, could he? That wouldn't be fun.

"You know you've killed me," he said suddenly, looking up at her with a hateful smile. She looked at him questioningly, making him truly smile more before continuing. "I failed. I take it the Keefe's are still alive?"

"That's right," Lisa said proudly.

He gave a quick laugh, "My employers won't be happy. They'll want me dead. I'm finished; congratulations, you won."

"You don't get to do this," she said sharply. "Don't you try playing the victim with me!"

"You don't know the people I work for," he continued. "I had to do this to you."

She crossed the room quickly and dropped down on top of him, a leg on either side of him as she squatted over him as he froze. Grabbing ahold of the bandage covering the shoulder gunshot, she squeezed hard, "You _don't_ get to play the victim!"

The pain had him pressing his lips together tightly, biting back a scream that instead became a loud moan as he tried to twist away from her.

"Do you understand?" Lisa asked, pressing harder.

He nodded frantically, whimpering loudly, "Yes!"

"Good," she let go, getting up to pace around him.

He gulped in air as quickly as he could, slightly shaking from the memory of how intense the pain had been just a moment before. He glared at her as his vision blurred with unshed tears, and he tried very hard to keep his chin from quivering. He'd sorely underestimated her, hadn't known she'd ever been attacked or of the strength it gave her, and he now knew he'd be paying for that mistake for a very long time.

"Never forget how you got here, Jackson. You made me think you liked me, you threatened to kill my father if I didn't fit into your plan to kill the Keefe's, you beat the hell out of me and later tried to kill me. That was all you – and I _liked_ you in the beginning, I trusted you!" Lisa said in a rush, the emotions of the day finally wearing on her.

He watched her with a slightly smug look on his face that replaced the near tears, enjoying hearing his plan and the parts he accomplished and then glaring and pouting when he thought about how wrong it had all gone. He didn't care about her, he didn't feel any remorse for his actions – except for the fact that he was now captured and certain that there was a lot of pain coming his way.

"You don't care at all who you hurt, do you?" She asked incredulously, catching the smug look on his face before he was able to shift it back. He looked up at her in fear, not answering. She stalked towards him and bent down so that their faces were very close together, "I'll teach you to care, you can bet on that."

Jackson imagined head butting her again, but he knew he was in no shape to escape. Just as she stood again, her father returned carrying a box.

"I have an air mattress, blankets and a pillow," he said, dropping the box on the floor and then bending to dig through it. "Oh, and these," he said, lifting out a chain and locks. "Can't have a killer untethered in my home."

Jackson glared at the two of them as they busied themselves with setting up his air mattress and as they got his chains in order. He knew that once they had him chained that his prospects of escaping greatly diminished, and so he tried to talk himself up to escape, even though he knew it was likely useless.

"You're going to rest for now, I brought you some bottled water if you get thirsty. Use this can if you have to relieve yourself. One of us will check on you in the morning," Joe said as he approached him with the chain.

Jackson glared up at him, waiting until Joe got close to try and headbutt him. He thought, with all of his training, maybe he'd be able to get the upper hand and escape. He had to at least try!

Joe, however, was quicker than he looked and easily brushed the weakened younger man aside. Jackson hit the shelved walls hard, and Joe slipped on the chain while he was still wincing in pain.

"Well, he'll be interesting – I'll give you that," Joe said to his daughter as they both laughed before walking out and locking him in.

As soon as the door was closed, Jackson tested his shackles, at first carefully and then by thrashing about in panic and frustration. Looking around, he saw he had nothing to pick the lock with. Realizing he was trapped, Jackson crawled onto the mattress, covered himself with the blankets and rolled into the fetal position to try and think of a logical way out. As the minutes ticked by and he still had nothing, he felt himself slipping into despair and soon fell into an exhausted fit of slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jackson awoke, laying on his side, covers pulled to his chin, to the feeling of cold fingers on his face. He had no idea where he was, every inch of his body throbbed and burned in pain, his mouth was incredibly dry and he was very hungry. Still partially in a dream state, he kept thinking that he had opened his eyes, only to realize that the strange scenes playing out before him weren't actually real, but were dreams. Attempts to move his body were heavy and clumsy, and ultimately unsuccessful.

Suddenly a smell worked its way into his psyche, helping him to finally succeed in opening his eyelids ever so slightly. Vision blurry, he could make out a large portion of white, a large portion of peachy pink and a whole lot of bright, blinding light. When he tried to look around, the light became too painful and he drug his hand up and over his face as he managed a groan.

Holding a cup of chicken broth in front of Jackson's face, Lisa grinned down at her pretty little captive as he struggled to wake up. If he wasn't such an evil little bastard, he'd be adorably precious. She noted that his color was still good, but that he hadn't drank any of the bottled water nor did he relieve himself during the night.

"It's time to wake up," she said quietly, trying to push down the concern she naturally felt.

Hearing her voice brought everything into focus. Jackson's eyes flew open wide as he flinched, peaking at her from under his hand. "Ooohhhh," he nearly whined, his face showing his abhorrence. How had this happened? Why couldn't she just have killed him?

...Wait, had she brought him soup?

He struggled to push back his covers, squinting still in the light until she set down his cup of broth and helped him by pulling back the covers to his knees.

Instantly remembering that he wore only his dark blue briefs, he emitted a high pitched growl and tried unsuccessfully to grab the covers back.

"Sit up," she said in a warning tone, slapping his hands away.

Jackson was not liking this treatment, and simply glared up at her, his naturally pouting lips pushed out even more than normal as he tried to look menacing.

"I _will_ hurt you. Sit up," Lisa repeated harshly.

He decided to see how far he could push her. Raising an eyebrow, he gave her a flippant smirk.

"Wrong choice," she ground out.

She again grabbed the gunshot wound in his shoulder and squeezed, making him squirm back and forth as he whimpered and slapped at her. However, he had barely any strength and was unable to impede her at all.

"Was pushing me worth it?" She scolded as she pushed her thumb into the wound over the bandage. "Was it?"

"No!" He cried out, "No – please! Stop!"

"Are you going to sit the hell up?" She breathed into his ear, putting her weight onto the wound.

"Yes! Ow," he yelled frantically, voice high. Tears were again springing to his eyes as his body shook.

"Good boy," Lisa answered with a smile as she let him go.

Jackson breathed hard, body breaking out in a cold sweat, he bit back a sob while trying to come down from the pain enough to do as she had asked. After a few moments he forced himself up into a sitting position, glaring at her from under his bangs.

Lisa couldn't help but smile at him, he looked so young and fragile and had definitely been taken down a few pegs already. It was a beautiful thing, indeed! She laughed a bit as his glare harshened at her smile.

"Stop sulking and drink your broth," she said dismissively. "If you keep that down well, I'll bring you some solid food."

He rolled his eyes at her, but snatched up the broth and went to gulp it down.

She grabbed his hand, "Slowly. You'll make yourself sick."

"I think I know how I need to drink," he said petulantly, trying to work his hand from her grasp.

"Need another lesson?" Lisa hissed.

He dropped his head and looked up at her with wide eyes at the question. He didn't answer, but did stop fighting her.

"I expect answers to my questions, Jackson..."

He blinked and rolled his head in irritation before dropping his head in submission. "No," he said, voice shaking in anger.

"No what?" She pressed.

Jackson raised his eyebrows to show how ridiculous he thought this was, but Lisa's expression only darkened. He again rolled his eyes, yet the movement of Lisa's hand towards his shoulder had him quickly answering. "No, I don't need another lesson," he said as he flinched away.

"Sip your broth," she said tightly.

Keeping eye contact with her, he slowly sipped the broth. The flavor burst on his tongue, and he felt a warm sinking feeling as it settled pleasantly in his stomach. After a few moments it was gone and he again felt tired.

Lisa took the empty cup from him and then handed him the bottle of water from last night. "Start drinking this now. You need your fluids."

He crooked up one side of his mouth in annoyance, but he couldn't deny how thirsty he was. Twisting the top off, he began sipping that down as well.

"Dad'll be down soon to check your wounds," she said offhandedly as she looked over his bandages as he drank his water.

"Why bother?" He said. "You should've just let me die, this is a dangerous game you're playing," he said flippantly as he gave her his scariest grin.

"I have plans for you," was her only answer, and that made the hair on Jackson's neck stand straight up. A moment later she stood, took the empty cup and bottle and left, locking him in the cellar once more to go get ready for work.

Jackson laid back down, his stomach gurgling in hunger as it handled the broth and water. Knowing he had to work his muscles for them to heal, he gingerly began rolling his shoulders, wincing. After a few moments, he gave up from the pain of it and instead focused on working his right leg, flexing it at the knee and the hip. The knife and high heel wounds, while painful, were much more tolerable than the gunshot wound to his shoulder, and he was able to deal with the pain there much better.

He stopped when the door opened again, looking over to see both Joe and Lisa coming in. Joe had the first aid kit and Lisa was dressed for work.

"Broth settling?" she asked him as her father knelt next to him.

Jackson couldn't help but watch Joe nervously, his pulse quickening. "...yea," he answered distractedly as Joe grinned at him.

"That's good to hear," Lisa responded as she too watched her father setting out his supplies before she turned to leave. "I'll get you some food."

Jackson glanced at her anxiously, wondering if it was best for him to have her here for Joe's little examinations. She only seemed to purposely cause him pain when he pushed. "Wait," he said and then stopped, feeling foolish. He'd been lucky in his line of work thus far, never having been tortured or injured badly before, leaving him with only a normal threshold for pain – but understanding that didn't keep him from feeling like a sissy.

"Daddy will take good care of you," she said with a grin and then was gone.

Looking back at Joe, Jackson's eyes widened at the mean smirk playing on the older man's face.

"You _should_ be scared of me," Joe rumbled quietly as he finished prepping.

That only pissed Jackson off. "You have to know that, at some point, one of you will let your guard down," Jackson tried, "and when that happens, I'm going to kill you both. Let me go or kill me now."

Joe didn't back down at all, just coolly regarded him for a long moment. "Look at you - you can't even handle _minor_ medical care. You're nothing." Joe laughed, "I know the tricks you'll try and I'll hurt you accordingly each time. Now, be still." At that, he went to work on Jackson's wounds, snorting out laughs here and there at the winces and gasps his handiwork elicited from the younger man. Finishing, he began bandaging the wounds once more.

Jackson blinked slowly against the falling feeling coming over him while trying to relax. He wasn't well enough trained, not for this. His line of work didn't involve confinement, it involved immediate death or suicide – neither of which seemed to be an option. How could this become his existence? He couldn't, _wouldn't_ accept it. If only his company had caught him, he'd be dead by now. Though, the thought of how they might go about it scared the hell out of him.

Lisa returned with a tray of food as Joe was packing up the first aid kit. Jackson stayed laying on his back as she set the food just out of his reach. He jutted his chin up to get a peek at the food. He saw a bowl of yogurt with granola and berries, a plate of what appeared to be a vegetable omelet with a piece of toast and a glass of some sort of juice. _Not bad at all_, he thought before he saw that Lisa turned away from him.

"How do they look?" Lisa asked her Dad as she sat on the mattress with her back to Jackson.

Letting out a long breath, Jackson grit his teeth, irritated at what he considered her disrespect and lack of fear of him; that they spoke as though he weren't there and that their discussion was interfering with him getting his food. He eyed the food again, feeling his stomach growl.

"Good. I'd be surprised if there was permanent damage." Joe shrugged, "He'll be fine soon, if that's what you want."

Jackson whipped his head towards the conversation, focusing on what he could see of Lisa's face. She looked amused.

"He'll be more fun healed," she answered noncommittally, obviously aware of Jackson's sudden interest in the conversation.

Letting his anger overwhelm the fear he felt from that answer, Jackson scoffed and began to reach for the food.

Feeling the mattress move, Lisa twisted back and slapped his hand away.

Jumping, he looked up at her in surprise while she glared down at him.

"Who told you you could have that?" She asked coolly.

Jackson's initial shock had turned into a glare and he pursed his lips as he held her gaze.

"I expect answers to my questions, Jackson – or do you need a reminder of that?"

"No," he answered quickly.

"Then who told you that you could have that?"

He hated this. "No one," he answered pitifully, feeling his cheeks redden yet again.

"That's right, _no one_," she said viciously. "Now, what do you think we should do about this, Jackson?"

Jackson stared at her for a long moment. She wanted him to name his own sentence, a sadistic move that surprised him. There was no way to win this.

He looked past Lisa at Joe, noting the even fiercer glare coming from the older man. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at Lisa. "I apologize; I'm very sore and very hungry. It won't happen again," he tried.

"Noted. Now answer my question," Lisa said as she began to lean close to him.

Jackson was fairly certain that she was planning on pressing her thumb into his gunshot wound again, and his mind raced to come up with a safe answer while shrinking away. "I think you should let me eat – I won't heal if I don't eat. You said I'd be more fun to you healed."

"Nice try, but eating a nice meal isn't much of a punishment, now is it?" Lisa asked, raising her eyebrows to show she wanted a verbal answer.

"Not really, but how am I supposed to heal if you keep injuring me? ...wouldn't the punishment be in making sure I heal faster?" Jackson asked with a hateful smirk.

"Mouthy little prick," Joe observed as he snapped the first aid kit shut and went to stand by the door, enjoying watching where this went.

"Yes he is – I think we need to work on fixing that," Lisa grinned conspiratorially over her shoulder to her father.

Jackson's eyes danced between them, the thought of her thumb in his shoulder making him more and more antsy. "If you keep pressing on my wounds they'll never heal," he said in an attempted growl, though the pitch of his voice had risen drastically, betraying him.

"You know, you're right. What do you suggest?" Lisa fully enjoyed watching the irritation spring to Jackson's face at her questions. This time, however, she got another embarrassed blush.

"You've already fully humiliated me – which, believe me, is quite a feat in itself," Jackson admitted, turning his head away from her.

"So you're telling me that humiliation is a good punishment for you, then?" She pressed further.

Jackson again dropped his head, "Yes." He just wanted to get past this as unscathed and as quickly as possible and eat his damn food. "Can I please eat now?"

"First I want you to stand," she said with a smile, standing herself.

He looked at her warily, but attempted to comply. After it became clear that his wounds were making it difficult to stand on his own, Lisa heftily lifted him, helping him to stand.

Much to his chagrin, Jackson had to keep ahold of her just to keep from teetering over from pain and exhaustion.

"Good boy," Lisa said, grinning at him for a moment. "Now it's time for punishment," she said, watching the panic rise in his face before tugging his underwear past his slim hips, letting them fall on their own to the ground. Lisa drank in the trembling sight of him, loving the empowering feeling of having the control in such an encounter this time around. "Hold onto me and step out of them."

Jackson sucked in a breath in short pants, shivering at being exposed. "Please," he said, giving her a pleading look and shaking his head. He'd never experienced anything like this before.

"Step out of them, Jackson," Lisa repeated, giving him a warning look.

"No," Jackson said, feeling his panic rise at what might come next.

"You don't get to tell me no," Lisa growled, pulling his naked torso to rest against her.

Once she had him safely secured against her, she began swatting him hard on his right ass cheek. Jackson immediately tried to struggle and twist away, yet her hold was secure. She could feel the temperature rise on his chest from his blushing embarrassment.

"Naughty, naughty Jackson. You're really not catching on here. You do what I say, when I say to do it. You do only what I say, and you never tell me no. Break any of these rules, and I will hurt and humiliate you until you comply," Lisa lectured, feeling herself throb with desire at so easily subduing him. Right now it was easy, his body and mind were shredded and he was therefore rather simple to control. She knew it wouldn't last long, which meant that soon she'd be able to use much harsher, more sadistic and cruel methods that would ultimately bring her much more satisfaction.

All those years playing lacrosse gave her a mighty swing, and soon Jackson was kicking his right leg just enough for her to lift him up and twist him around so that his right foot fell from his underwear. When it did, she immediately went to work on his left cheek.

Jackson, realizing what she was doing – and not having a tolerance for anymore pain, no matter what his ego wanted – quickly kicked the underwear off of his left foot, leaving himself naked and leaning dependently on Lisa. Joe stepped firmly on the chain as he unhooked it from the floor, removing Jackson's underwear before reattaching the chain.

"That's better," she smiled, helping Jackson to again sit on the mattress. "You can eat now," she said as she stood.

Keeping his eyes on the floor, Jackson could feel his skin blush even harder and his body slightly shake at the rage and humiliation he felt. Any pain from the slaps had already subsided, but there was just no getting past the fact that she had literally and figuratively stripped him of his manhood.


End file.
